Page 20 of Hunted By the Bratva
This room was filled with art. Collectible art, valuable beyond words. There were tables and stands with art pieces. The walls were covered in paintings. It was more than merely amazing; it was spectacular.
I entered slowly, scanning the room. I stared at it as if everything was made of gold. I felt like I had discovered the world's biggest collection of buried treasure. It was a museum of fine art.
As I walked into the room, admiring the fine art, I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning swiftly, I saw Iosif standing behind me. I didn’t even hear him coming in.
“Oh, my,” I huffed. I heard my voice shaking slightly as I was caught off guard.
“Are you enjoying my collection of rare art?” he asked.
“Yes, it is quite exquisite,” I replied. I felt the blush cross my cheeks as they heated up.
“Well,” he said, taking my hand. He pulled me gently with him further into the vast room. “These pieces are some of my oldest collections. I’ve traveled most of the world quite extensively. As I went, I started collecting.”
“Very interesting indeed,” I commented.
“These,” he stated, pointing at an odd-looking couple of statues and two paintings. “These come from the Ming Dynasty. I collected them while touring China. I was about twenty-three when I came through there. It has taken me years to build my collection.”
“Oh, wow, they really are beautiful,” I said as he pulled me towards the next set.
“This collection of vases, statues, and paintings I collected from various places in France,” he boasted.
I couldn’t make out if the set of paintings was all from France, as some didn’t seem to fit. But before I could ask, we moved on. As he took me through the room, he talked about the origin of each set. I could see his love for art was just as deep as mine.
He patiently explained to me where each one came from. Some were all the way from Russia, some from Germany, and others came from Holland. There were pieces from England, and the paintings were also from all over the world.
Some of the vases and statues were from Greece, Italy, and even Spain. As we got closer to the door, I had an overwhelming sense of sharing. His kindness and care made me want to talk to him. I felt safe enough with him that I could share my world with him.
“One day,” I said. “I dream that one day I will travel the world and see all there is to see.”
He stopped and turned to me. Looking into my eyes as he spoke. “Why don’t you?”
“I’d like to travel the world, see and experience life without bodyguards or family hovering over me. Just because I’m a well-kept secret here doesn’t mean I’m not careful,” I said.
Iosif grinned as he replied. “Oh, yes, I forgot, you are Miss Overly Careful.”
“Well, okay,” I replied, feeling my cheeks heating up. “The incident at the club was a one-time thing. I rarely ever take risks like that. It’s not something I generally do.”
His grin widened as he spoke. His eyes were studying my every move. “I can’t believe that. But then, I must say, I’m very charming as well.”
“Really?” I replied. I stood there astounded, even though I didn’t intend to let my emotions show. I could hear it in my tone.
“Yes, really,” he added as he lifted his arms and flexed his muscles. Turning his head, he proceeded to kiss each bicep.
Covering my mouth with my hands, I covered the smile. I shook my head and looked to the side.
Iosif moved closer, and I could feel his body heat as he spoke. “You like art. But have you ever painted?”
“No, I haven’t painted, have you?” I replied. I glanced around, looking to see if there was a paintbrush or any sign of paint.
He shrugged and turned away. “Well, I must admit, you do know a lot about art. I have never met someone as into art as I am. It’s refreshing,” I added.
We exchanged a quick glance and shared a warm smile. I studied some more of the paintings as he straightened some out that were hanging skew. As I turned to look at another on the back wall, we bumped into each other. I toppled to the side, but Iosif caught me.
It felt like he was the hero in my story for a moment. I would have dived into some statues if he hadn't caught me. It wasn’t a war story, but it was a save. We stood for a second, staring deep into each other's eyes.
Iosif made sure I was steady before stepping back. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled.
“No need to be sorry. Thank you for catching me,” I replied lightly as I fixed my dress.
